


good mood morning

by bloodandcream



Series: The more the merrier [99]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Asexual Sam Winchester, Bottom Castiel, Bunker Fluff, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Sam watches, explicit Destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:54:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: “Stay.” Is all Dean needs to say.Sam nods, sits at the desk at the foot of the bed, picks up his coffee mug.Dean’s a show off. He preens. He likes being watched. Sam will forever like watching his brother. Sometimes, it even turns him on just to watch.





	good mood morning

Sam is usually the one to put on the first pot of coffee in the morning, but Dean is usually the one to have the first mug.

Sweaty, hair pulled back in a small ponytail, Sam jaunts down the stairs to the war-room after his jog in a good mood. The sky was still pinkened from sunrise when he went out, the forest bursting in a riot of green almost overnight. It’s finally spring. No one is dying, the world isn’t ending. It’s definitely enough to put a jaunt in his step.

When he rounds the corner into the kitchen, pulling his earbuds out, Sam pauses to see that Dean isn’t enjoying his first mug of coffee, rummaging through the cupboards and thinking about what to make for breakfast.

Sam stands at the bottom of the few steps into the kitchen, bends to stretch to his toes, raises his arms and stretches them behind his back then forward. He considers getting his own mug of coffee and having yogurt and granola for breakfast. He doesn’t eat a heavy breakfast like Dean, not most of the time, but it’s nice to be in the kitchen when Dean cooks. You can tell the coffee is kicking in when he starts to hum a little and sway his hips. The food always smells good, and Sam always swipes a piece of bacon or begs a bite of greasy eggs. But he doesn’t have to wait for Dean. He could have his yogurt.

Dean’s probably being lazy and cuddling in bed with Cas. His visits are longer and more frequent, but he insists that his relation with heaven must be maintained. Sam gets it. He doesn’t have to like it but at least he’s not as grumpy about it as Dean is.

Pulling down two white mugs, Sam considers a third for Cas. It’s hit or miss with him. Sam fills two mugs, black. Wrapping his headphone wire around his phone then sticking it back in his pocket, pulling at the hem of his shirt to fan himself off, Sam enjoys the aroma of coffee, the quiet of the bunker, the unusual good mood of the morning.

With the full mugs of coffees carefully in hand, he makes his way down the hall to Dean’s room - mostly Dean and Sam’s room, sometimes Dean and Cas’ room, and if they drag another mattress in and settle two of them on the floor then Dean and Sam and Cas’ room. The doorway is open a crack, so he doesn’t bother to knock, hip-bumps it open and steps in.

Sam stops a step into the room with a quiet ‘oh’.

Cas is curled on one side, pillow clutched to his chest and face buried in it, legs tangled in the blanket and he looks like he could still be asleep but Dean is behind him, part-way on top of him really, hips rolling steady and there’s a sheen of sweat on his face, flushed red down to his freckled chest.

The arm that Dean has wrapped around Cas’ waist, hand moving steadily under the blanket, stills, and Dean presses himself against Cas. “Mornin’. Hey, coffee in bed?”

Sam moves to the desk and sets the mugs down. “You’re never this quiet.”

They’re not. Even for as thick as the bunker walls are, even in the library, Sam can usually at least hear an echo.

The blankets shift and Cas pushes himself up onto an elbow, squints blearily at Sam and his hair is tousled wildly. “Good morning, Sam.”

“Morning, Cas.”

Sam takes half a step toward the door, half a step towards the desk chair. He’s got something he could read in the library. Or that yogurt and granola to get to. But, Cas is looking very human and pliable and sweet, and Dean is watching Sam’s wavering carefully. Dean lifts up on one arm, back muscles flexing as he holds Cas’ hip down and pulls out, in the stillness Sam can hear the wet slide, pushes back slow and controlled.

“Stay.” Is all Dean needs to say.

Sam nods, sits at the desk at the foot of the bed, picks up his coffee mug.

Dean’s a show off. He preens. He likes being watched. Sam will forever like watching his brother. Sometimes, it even turns him on just to watch.

Sex was always something that Dean made seem natural and necessary and inevitable. Sam has only ever had a few partners he’s been comfortable enough trying for it. It doesn’t do anything for him, not like it seems it should, but he enjoys giving it to his partners, he enjoys the intimacy of it. After some of the truly fucked up shit that’s happened to him, he can’t always get it up, but using his fingers or toys when he’s in the right mood, it makes him feel just as good to get his partner there.

He sips his coffee, and Dean rolls his eyes at that, settles down onto his elbow and starts slowly rocking against Cas. There’s a quiet huff where Cas has buried his face in the pillow again, his hips shifting back like he’s asking for more, and his feet peek out of the end of the blanket, toes curled.

Sam watches, and drinks half of his coffee before he sets it down. He’s a little aroused, but mostly, it’s nice to be allowed in on this. Him and Dean have always been closer than brothers should be, but the sex come and goes between them. Since Cas, there hasn’t been anyone else in their weird little love triangle.

Sam does love Cas. Almost as fiercely as his brother.

Dean’s pushes and pulls at Cas, moves his lax body as he wills, positions a thigh up higher so he’s wider open and the blanket moves, strong hard muscle of his legs bared, the vulnerable space between his thighs above where Dean’s cock has him stretched, the roundness of his balls pressed to the bed. He has got a great ass. Sam can appreciate that, even if he doesn’t want to do anything to it but fondle it when they cuddle.

Pressing Cas almost stomach to the bed, angled just so, Dean brackets his arms beside Cas’ chest and moves over him faster and more purposefully. Dean’s breathing quickens as he moves in an easy, fluid ripple. Dropping his head to Cas’ neck, he kisses the back of it and along the swoop of Cas’ shoulder, then tells him, “Touch yourself.”

Sam kind of wants to touch himself.

Cas grumbles, pushes the pillow off the side of the bed and his face is flushed too, stubble dark across his jaw, brow creased. He wiggles a hand down and adjusts himself in the second that Dean gives him, bicep flexing as he starts to jack off and Dean fucks into him rougher, animalistic, pulling those wounded confused grunts out of Cas like his body always surprises him when it reacts like this. Cas shivers and shakes and his body tenses while Dean focuses his intent, puts his mouth on Cas’ neck and rattles the headboard against the wall.

Moan stuttering low and wrecked, Cas’ shoulders hunch as he writhes under Dean and comes into his fist, onto the mattress. Sam can’t see that part but he sees Cas’ face, mouth slack as his eyes roll back, body sagging limpy to the bed post-release. Dean lays down against him, moves deep in him with short needy thrusts and stifles his groan into Cas’ neck.

Sam might be halfway hard. Okay, a third.

He picks up his half empty coffee cup and finishes it while Dean and Cas pull apart slowly, kissing and touching. Cas rolls over to spread a hand on Dean’s hip and claim his mouth.

Dean flops on his back, arm stretching under Cas’ neck as Cas settles onto his chest, curls against him. Dean makes a grabby motion at Sam.

It is the cuddling part that Sam likes best.

“Dude, I’m all gross after my jog. I need a shower.”

“Dude, we’re both gross too,” Dean grumbles.

Fair point.

Standing, Sam kicks off his shoes and shuffles around the side of the bed opposite Cas. There definitely isn’t room for three grown men to sleep comfortably on one of these mattresses, but three grown men can uncomfortably cuddle for a few minutes before showering.

Sam mirrors Cas, curves along Dean’s side with his head resting on Dean’s chest, his nose and Cas’ a few inches apart. For Sam, this position means his butt is hanging off the side of the bed and his feet are awkwardly propped on the footboard.

But then Dean drapes his arm over Sam’s shoulder, and there’s the lightest touch of a kiss to the top of his head. Sam can hear his brother’s heartbeat, and watch Cas’ blue eyes droop. Cas reaches over Dean’s bare stomach and finds Sam’s hand to hold. Scooting closer to stretch his head across Dean’s chest, Sam kisses Cas, gently, letting Cas deepen it.

Dean gives them a cheesy, “Aww.”

Sam nudges his bony knee against Dean’s leg.

The good mood morning is now a good mood day, and Sam thinks that maybe he’ll ask Dean to make pancakes for breakfast.


End file.
